


Mighty Nein Actually

by TheHoardingPuffin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas songs, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Formerly anorexic Caduceus Clay, Gay Disaster Beauregard Lionett, How Do I Tag, Love Actually AU, Luc Brenatto is adorable, Mighty Nein as Family, Mollymauk lives, Multi, Mutual Pining, Traumatized Caleb Widogast, Vax'ildan lives, Weddings, Zuala lives, mentioned Vox Machina - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHoardingPuffin/pseuds/TheHoardingPuffin
Summary: Christmas is only a month away, and with the holiday spirit come all sorts of little adventures and excitements. Caleb is going through a rough time and it bleeds into his relationship with Mollymauk, Jester makes plans to land #1 in the Critical Radio Christmas Song Charts, Beau has a hopeless crush she cannot work through, Yasha and Zuala are taking their relationship to a new level, and little Luc is in love for the very first time.Aka. the Love Actually AU nobody asked for (but I wrote it anyway)
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Jester Lavorre & Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & The Mighty Nein, Yasha/Zuala (Critical Role), Yeza Brenatto/Nott
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	Mighty Nein Actually

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> This is a (slightly early) Christmas Gift to all the Critters who want it - a nice, maybe slightly angsty CR Christmas fic, which is totally inspired by Love Actually (I love that movie, leave me be!) This is in a modern setting where, amongst all the Critical Role Deities, Christianity is a thing and therefor there is Christmas (I didn't want to change the name is all). There still are the same continents and countries, and the story takes place in Wildemount, in Zadash. However, I wanted Vox Machina to be in it at least a bit (I love both Campaigns equally and don't want to choose so there. We got both. Also, Vax lives. It's only mentioned in a side-scentense but he lives), so they are also in Zadash in this fic. I'm bending canon quite a bit here. Sorry-not-sorry.   
> Oh, and another thing: I put in a lot of Christmas-movie-clichées. Deal with it. This is very sappy. Also a bit angsty but mostly sappy.   
> I also aged up little Luc Brenatto because I wanted him to be about the age of Sam in Love Actually. So, here's a little clarification of the ages: 
> 
> All the Mighty Nein plus Zuala are between 20 and 35 years old (same as in canon)  
> Luc is eleven years old   
> Luminara de Rolo is eleven years old  
> All the Vox Machina are roughly twenty years older than their canon age from the last Cpn.1 episode.
> 
> So. That should be all. If you have any questions, please ask me, I'm glad to answer, and I would absolutely love it if you left a comment. All kind of feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Happy early Christmas, dear Critters! Get over to 2020 well, and make it a great year!  
> Love, Lotta

**Four weeks until Christmas**

“ _Now the mistletoes and the house of Lords  
All the world seems at ease tonight  
And all that I ask when these precious moments pass  
Is why can't every day be so bright_

_I wish every day could be like Christmas  
And if I could have one wish come true  
I wish every day could be, full of peace and harmony  
I wish every day could be like Christmas, I do_

_Honest I do, yes I do now  
Very merry Christmas!_”

“Well, what do you know? Only a few years ago, I had Marion Lavorre, the one and only Ruby of the Sea, here at our studio; and now, her daughter is here. Hello, my name is Brian W. Forster, welcome to Critical Radio, the best radio station in all of Wildemount.”

The radio moderator picked up his cue cards.

“Like I said, today I have Jester Lavorre with me, and we will talk a little bit about her first single, a cover version of Bon Jovi’s _I wish every day could be like Christmas_. Isn’t that funny? Because, some of you might remember that, her mother was here with a Christmas song as well.”

Brian scratched the back of his head.

“It’s almost like a déjà-vu. So, Jester – nice song that you have there.”

Jester straightened her back and made a small gesture. “Well, y’know, it’s not like I can take credit for the lyrics, y’know? It’s just a cover version.”

“Quite a brilliant cover version, if I dare say so.”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Okay, so – why this song? And why now? Apart from the fact that Christmas is approaching of course. Why did you decide to start publishing your music? Trying to follow in your mother’s footsteps?”

“Nooo”, Jester said slowly. “It’s my own little thing, y’know, I just wanted to do something Christmas-y, and I really like the song. Also, it’s not like I haven’t published my music before, it’s just never been on the radio or something.”

“Of course.” Brian nodded. “Now, Jester – _I wish every day could be like Christmas_. Is that a message you care about?”

“Absolutely!” Jester grinned and clasped her hands together. “I love Christmas sooo so so much! There is glitter and pastries and presents… aaaaand shiny lights everywheeeeeere…”

“And there are the Critical Radio Christmas Song Charts. The best of the best, brand-new Christmas songs by all your favourite artists.”

Brian made a small pause.

“Are you gonna throw your hat into the ring, Jester?”

Jester leaned forward, leaning her chin on her hand. “You bet I will.”  
Brian grinned. “Okay. You heard it, folks, Jester Lavorre is officially a participant in the race for the top. If you want her to be the number one, just keep streaming the song, and don’t forget to vote on the Critical Radio webpage. The polls are up and open until ten am on the 24th of December, and we reveal the winner at ten pm the same day.”

“And I will love you all forever if you vote for meeee!”, Jester said in a sing-song-way.

“I’m sure you will.” Brian shuffled his cue cards. “We’re almost out of time, sadly, so we’ll have to make this quick… How will you celebrate Christmas this year, Jester? Are you gonna throw a wild party, dance until you drop dead on the floor?”  
Jester laughed. “No, I don’t think so. But I don’t know yet… I think I’ll either go and celebrate with my Momma in Nicodranas or I’ll hang out with my friends… just gonna have a good time, basically.”

“Gonna stand under some mistletoes?”

“Maybe.” Jester winked playfully. “But no flirting here, Brian, I’m here for work.”

Brian laughed and put on an over-exaggerated flirty tone. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“Oh, loads of plans!”

“Aargh! You’re breaking my heart!”

“Sorry!” Jester grinned. “But right after this here, I’m going to a wedding!”

“Hey, Fjord…”

“Hm?”  
“Do you think we should bring some flowers? I mean, they will have flower decorations I assume… but should we bring flowers? Or tea? Would that be weird?”

Fjord chuckled at that. Caduceus really could be a bit clueless and cloistered. Or maybe he just hadn’t been to a wedding before – the Clays weren’t really ones for social events, so that was a plausible explanation as well…

“I think they will appreciate it.” Fjord shrugged. “You know how Yasha is with flowers. She’ll love it.”

“Even though she works at a flower store?” Caduceus frowned. “I think I’ll go for tea. Be right back.”

And off he was, through the glass door and out on the graveyard. Fjord chuckled again, then turned towards the mirror and adjusted his tie.

“Here!”

Caduceus came back inside, holding a handful of stems with thick dark leathery leaves and small white-and-yellow flowers. “ _Camellia sinensis_. Tea-flowers. The right mixture, don’t you think?”

“Sure.” Fjord grinned. “Whose grave do those grow on?”

“Nobody’.” Caduceus went into the small kitchen area, wet a towel and wrapped it around the bottom of the _camellias_. “My sister put them below her favourite climbing tree. That was… uh, so long ago already…”

“Huh. Alright…” Fjord ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m still figuring out where what tea grow…”

“You’ve only worked here for a few weeks. You will learn it.”

Caduceus set down the flowers and adjusted his collar.

“I’m sure.” Fjord nodded. “It’s definitely better working here than in ocean-biology. I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea to begin with.., or why it took me so long to realize that.”

“Sometimes it takes a bit to find the right place. Sometimes, you put flowers on a grave that’s in the shade when they need sunlight.”

Fjord raised an eyebrow at that. Caduceus shrugged.

“It happens!”

Fjord decided not to comment on that further. “Why did your sister plant the the flowers under the tree?”

“Because she liked the tree, and she didn’t want me to climb in it.” Caduceus tried to put his tie on properly. He didn’t usually wear suits, he was more one for long, baggy clothes… and definitely not one for ties.

“Why would the flowers stop you from climbing the tree?”

“I didn’t want to step on them.” Caduceus frowned down at his tie. “How does this… I wouldn’t step on the flowers, ever. Cassia was big enough to jump right up to the lower branches, I wasn’t.”

“Oh. Okay.” Fjord watched the firbolg struggling with his wardrobe for another moment, then decided to step in. “Wait a moment, let me… help you with that.”

He walked over and helped Caduceus tie and straighten his tie properly. “There.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Caduceus smiled. “Where did you learn that?”

“I always like to make a good appearance I guess.”

“Caleb, have you seen my necklace?”

“Which one? You’ll have to be a bit more specific, Mollymauk. You own more than fifty.”

“The silver one with the moon.”

From the way Molly’s voice sounded, he was currently stuck half in his closet, looking for the lost jewellery piece. Caleb sighed. “Look in the little lead box in the bathroom, Molly. That’s where you usually leave things.”  
He heard a small thump, then a faint hiss, and a muffled "Thank you!"

“ _Immer wieder gerne, du absoluter Chaot_.“

Caleb shook his head – how, exactly, did he and Molly fit together again? – and went back to wrapping the gift they had gotten. It was actually a big box full of many little boxes, little gifts, because they hadn’t been able to find the one big perfect thing. There were different kinds of sweets, a book on flower symbolisms that Caleb had found at an antiquary… it was a rare find, old and full of detailed beautifully painted pictures, and the text was still handwritten. It was a very Caleb thing to get people old books, but he hadn’t been able to just leave it at the shop. He had even negotiated with the antiquarian for a better price. It had still been quite the sum, but worth every penny.

Besides that, there were all sorts of more or less useful things – a set of two wine glasses engraved with _Hers_ and _Also Hers_ that Molly had found somewhere, a crystal sphere that remained from Molly’s and Yasha’s time with the carnival and that was a little whirlwind of soft oranges, reds and milky whites, there was jewellery, a soft plushy blanket (the one thing Caleb and Molly had agreed on immediately – cuddle time was important, and always better with loads of blankets. Facts.) and a detailed painting Molly had made. It was small, only ten by sixteen centimetres, but full of little elements and ornaments and such things, stars and quartzes and flowers, and two faces placed against each other in a heart-like shape, facial features obscured by flowing hair (because Molly couldn’t draw faces very well).

They had already wrapped all the individual gifts, but the big wooden box still needed to be wrapped, and Molly couldn’t be trusted around gifts if they were not supposed to be covered in wrinkled paper and tons of tape. Of course, Molly insisted he wrapped packages with love, but Caleb still preferred doing all the intricate paper-cutting and taping and bow-tying and…

“Hah? How do I look?”

Molly stood in the doorway of their small living room, arms spread to the sides, showing off his outfit in all its glory.

Caleb’s breath got stuck in his throat for a second. His ears went red.

“You look… good. Great. _Ja_.”

Molly did indeed look stunning – a pale lavender, almost white shirt with wide flowy sleeves, a dark blue waistcoat, heavily embroidered in slightly lighter shades, a black skirt with a glittering tulle over-layer and, of course, impossibly high black shoes. Caleb made a mental note to pack a pair of more sensible footwear before they left. Small silver hoop earrings hung from his pointy ears, and there was a bunch of silver and blue jewellery on his horns. His silver moon necklace sat nicely in the frame of the deep neckline, resting on the nest of thing silverish scars.

“You don’t look bad yourself, _Herr_ Widogast.” Molly winked and used his tail to gesture up and down Caleb’s appearance. Caleb was wearing much simpler garments than Mollymauk – who was glittery enough for both of them – grey trousers, white dress shirt, a simple brown waistcoat, flat brown leather shoes. It was much nicer than his usual clothes, but still _Caleb_ enough for him not to feel uncomfortable.

“My beautiful Zemnian wizard boyfriend.” Molly sighed dramatically. “I’m so lucky. And so are you, if I may say so.”

Caleb chuckled and blushed a little harder. “I know I am.”

Molly’s smile got even brighter. “So, I’m not overdoing it? The best man can’t look better than the brides after all, even if the best man is me.”

At this, Caleb rolled his eyes, but he didn’t really mean it. “Mollymauk, nobody could compare to you.”

“I know. Was just checking.”

Molly paused for a second, then jumped up and down on the spot and clapped his hands. “Okay, I’m excited. Can we go, are we ready?”

“We still have time”, Caleb reminded him gently, but he gave the big green bow one final tug and picked the present off the table. “Alright, let’s grab the coats and get going.”

“Yayyyy!” Molly bounced harder and clapped his hands faster.

“Stop bouncing, Mollymauk, you’ll hit your head.”

Caleb grabbed his coat and a pair of flat shoes from the hallway, balancing the present on his hip. 

“But Caleb, I’m excited!” Molly jumped in half-turns now.

“You behave like Jester.”

“I’m _excited_! My best friend is getting married! Let me bounce if I want!”

“ _Du bist bescheuert_. C’mon.”

Frumpkin sat on the little shelf by the door and watched them get ready. Caleb gave him a two-finger-pat on the head, and Molly picked him up and hugged him. Frumpkin tolerated it.

“Be a good boi, Frumpkin”, Caleb said earnestly. “Guard the house.”

“Bye kitty! Don’t pee on the sofa!”, Molly added.

And off they were.

Yasha and Zuala had chosen a great venue for their venue for their wedding. The best they could have gotten. Once upon a time, it had been a temple for some long-forgotten deity, now considered _illegal_ and a _betrayer_ like so many others, but now, it was a place that people could rent for all sorts of occasions.

The roof was made of glass, and there were white wooden lanterns with glass sides everywhere on the white marble walls. Flower bouquets in bright pinks and purples and oranges that Zuala had made herself (orange for enthusiasm, pink for happiness, gentleness and femininity and purple for success, admiration and tradition) had been set up everywhere. There was a big round table, and a big buffet, and music and smiles… everything was perfect. So perfect that Yasha felt like she could fly. For once, all seemed easy and good and non-complicated.

Molly and Caleb were the first to arrive, and Mollymauk immediately showered both brides in compliments and he didn’t stop smiling. Neither could Yasha, though. Caleb stayed more in the background, but he did smile as well, and he gave Yasha a hug and congratulated her and Zuala in a way that clearly came from the heart. From him, that was already quite a lot.

Fjord, Caduceus and Beau came next, all three of them bringing small gifts and wearing well-fitting suits. Caduceus also brought tea, and that was such a typical thing for him that Yasha started laughing before she put the little bundle into water.

The carnival-people were next, Gustav and Desmond, Bosun, Toya, the twins and Ornna. They were old friends and came giftless, but with joy on their faces and songs and warm hugs, which was more than enough. Yasha and Molly both hadn’t seen their old troop in ages, and Zuala had only met them once and briefly, so it was a nice reunion. None of them had changed much, they still were the same old merry band.

The Brenattos – Nott, Yeza and little Luc – came a little later, because they had picked up Jester on the way. Both Jester and Nott greeted the brides with tight hugs, Yeza offered a friendly smile and firm handshakes. Luc asked if the cake was chocolate-flavoured.

Neither Zuala’s nor Yasha’s parents had bothered to show up, they hadn’t even responded to their invitations. Nobody was sad about them missing. Both women didn’t have ties to their birth families anyways.

A priestess officiated their wedding, wishing them luck and a long, happy marriage, and politely ignoring that both women swore an oath on the Stormlord, an illegal deity, before their vows. After all the legal documents were signed and the brides had shared their first kiss as married people, the priestess took her leave, the buffet was declared open and the celebrations began.

Yasha was sure she had never been this happy in her entire life. She didn’t let go of Zuala’s – _her wife’s!_ – hand for even one second. She could eat and drink only using her left hand just fine. Well, not really, but she had waited for this day for basically an eternity, and she was afraid it would cease to be real if she closed her eyes or let go of Zuala for just a second. It was probably stupid and irrational, but she didn’t really care.

The food was great. The cake was even better. Mollymauk held a speech and praised Yasha and Zuala beyond measure. Jester and Yorna both sang for the newly-wed. Gustav insisted on reaching around a goblet of wine like they had done with the carnival (they skipped Luc, of course). Nott had made a pair of intricate flower crowns, and Zuala was fast to grab them and put them on her own and Yasha’s heads. Hers was too big for her head and slipped down to her ear on the left side, but she only laughed and kept it on.

“Crooked flower crowns are better anyways”, she said and smiled widely. Yasha wanted to kiss her so badly, and since there was no reason not to, she just did. Once, twice, trice.

After the meal came the dancing. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer, but Zuala was, and she guided Yasha through the movements and turns and spins until she stopped feeling so awkward.

Next to them, Nott and Yeza were doing a nice little waltz-thing and from the corner of her eye, Yasha saw Mollymauk drag Caleb onto the dancefloor. The carnival folks were still waiting for a faster paced tune, but they watched the dancing couples and cheered and clapped for them when the dance had ended.

Soon, the music changed from calm, very classical instrumental melodies to an upbeat jolly tune with fiddles and tin whistles and drums, and Gustav, Bosun and the others practically _flew_ to the middle of the dancefloor, taking each other by the hands, soon caught in their wild turns and twists and jumps and claps. Caleb excused himself, but Molly didn’t seem to mind; he grabbed Nott by her hands and started twirling her around.

Meanwhile Caleb made his way to the side of the room and found himself next to Beauregard, who was staring at Jester. The blue tiefling had lifted Luc on her hip and danced with him, both of them laughing.

“You know, Beau”, Caleb said quietly. “It is rude to stare at people.”

“Fuck off, Widogast.”

Beau crossed her arms. It also almost looked like she pouted, except that a Beauregard Lionett would never, ever pout. Caleb bit back a laugh.

“I just… look, let me stare at pretty girls, man! Okay?”

Caleb shrugged. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Don’t get clever, now!”

“But I _am_ clever.”

Beau glared at him. Caleb lifted his hands in a way that said _I surrender_.

“So… you like her, then?”, he then asked quietly. He earned another glare, but also a small nod.

“She’s just… she’s great, okay?”

Caleb nodded. He didn’t feel the same way about Jester that Beau did, but he did adore her. As a friend, a sister.

“You know I support you, right?”

Beau nodded slowly.

“But I also care about Jester. So if you two should…” Caleb made gesture. “… and you hurt her, I will be… unhappy.”

Beau raised her eyebrow at that. “Are you giving me the Older-brother-talk here?”

“I… guess I am. _Ja_.”

Beau breathed out a laugh and said nothing. For a while, they just watched the others dancing.

“You should tell her”, Caleb said finally. Beau scoffed. “Yeah, no. Nope.”

“What could go wrong?”

“Uh, she could hate me!”

“Unlikely. She’s Jester.”

Beau groaned. “You’re not being very helpful here, Widogast!”

“ _’tschuldigung_.”

“What?”

Caleb sighed. “Nevermind. But really, you should tell her. You are much braver and much less awkward than me. If I can confess my… my love, then you can confess yours to Blueberry over there.”

Beau made a face. “Yeah, but that was Molly! Everybody knew he was already fucking smitten for you!”

“I did not know.”

Beau stared. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

He paused.

“I am, uh… oblivious… like that. _Ja_. So there.”

She shrugged. “If I could go up to Mollymauk fucking Tealeaf and tell him, you can go up to Jester and tell her.”

Beau frowned. “Okay”, she said after a moment. “I’ll think about it. But don’t you dare tell anyone, or I’ll… gut you.”

“Intimidating.” Caleb laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not one for meddling. Just for, uh, advise amongst friends.”

“Sure.”

They returned to watching those who were dancing.

“What a _night!_ ”

Molly spun around with wide-stretched arms. He was a little drunk, but not enough to lose balance in his spinning yet. The flat-soled shoes probably helped with that though.

“Caleb, what a night!” Molly grabbed Caleb’s hands. “I’ve never seen Yasha so happy, never! She was so beautiful! I’m so, so proud of her!”

“I know Mollymauk.”

When Molly was drunk, he started praising his friends. Well, more than usual. And louder than usual.

Caleb looked at his watch – even though he knew the time, it was more of a reflex thing – then back up to Molly, who was still smiling.

“And all the folly folk! It was so…”

He continued to speak, but Caleb stopped listening. Over Molly’s shoulder, he had spotted someone on the other side of the street, someone who looked familiar… He froze.

“… can’t believe how – Caleb? Is something wrong?”

Molly looked at him with big, worried eyes. Caleb tried to shake off his sudden fright.

“Uh, nein… I mean… Do you see that man over there? At the bus stop?”

Molly slowly took a look over his shoulder. “The one with the dark hair?”

Caleb nodded.

“What about him?”

“I think I know him.” He had to force the words out, and he hated it. Molly squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

“From… before Nott?”, he asked. Caleb gave another nod.

“Are you sure?”

“I… I don’t know. He looks like him.”

“Okay.” Molly nodded. “Pretend you’re calling a cab or something.”

“But I already…”

“Just do it!” Molly turned around and walked over to the man. Caleb fumbled his phone out of the pocket and turned half away, pressing the phone to his ear. Molly was back in less than a minute.

“Nice fella”, he said, and his voice was too cheerful for Caleb’s suspicion to be true. “He’s a Joshua Gips, not an Eodwulf.”

Molly squeezed his hands again. “Also, he has no scars.”

Caleb exhaled slowly. Relief washed over him in waves. _Not Eodwulf. No danger_.

The cab pulled up into the street.

“C’mon”, Molly said gently. “Let’s go home.”

A benefit of being a little bit of a drunkard was not getting hangovers after late-night parties. A benefit of Yeza being a skilled alchemist and apothecary, was that he had a perfect quick-cure for the headaches he had gotten from the late-night wedding party.

“There’s food in the fridge”, he said as he checked his luggage for the last time. “Enough for six days, just in case…”

Nott laughed. “Sweetie – you’re only at that conference for four days.”

“I said _just in case_.” Yeza smiled sheepishly. “It’s all labelled…”

“You know, I _can_ cook as well.”

“If I’m being honest, I got nervous when I worked on my lecture so I meal-prepped to calm my nerves.”

Nott smiled. “You are a dork.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Luc and I will be okay. You go and rock that conference!”

Yeza nodded. “I will. I’ll see you in four days. Goodbye.”

He grabbed his suitcase and laptop-bag and made his ways to the door. Nott followed him. She watched him out his things into their small car and waited, until Yeza turned around to wave Goodbye.

“I love ya, baby!”, she yelled – loud enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood. Not that she cared much about that. Yeza laughed, shaking his head and waved goodbye before getting into the car and driving off. Nott closed the door and started making breakfast. And coffee.

Luc came down the stairs about an hour later, still in his pyjamas and with tousled hair.

“Morning, baby!” Nott handed him a cup of cocoa. “Slept well?”

“Dunny.” Luc sighed.

“Why?” Nott frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Luc bit his lip.   
“Okay, now, that’s some bullsh- bullcrap if I’ve ever heard one.” She set her coffee to the side. “What is it? Someone at school being mean to you? Who should I beat up?”

Luc giggled, then sighed again. “Not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Luc kneaded his hands. “I… Mum, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, baby, anything!”

Luc nodded. “So… I like someone. _Like_ like.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nott nodded. “Like me and Papa like each other, you mean?”

Luc nodded.

“Oh. Oooohhh!” Nott pulled him into a hug. “Oh Lucey! That’s wonderful!”

She brushed the hair out of her boy’s face. “Who is it? Someone from school?”

Luc nodded.

“Do I know her? Or him, or them?”

“No, you don’t know her.” Luc sniffed. “She’s a year above me at school. And she’s very pretty. And nice. Everybody loves her.”

“Okay.” Nott pursed her lips. “You know what? I’ll help you. We’ll win that girl over for you, how does that sound?”

Luc’s eyes practically lit up. “You’ll help me? Promise?”

“Big fat Mama-Promise!”

**Three Weeks until Christmas**

Beau was waiting in front of the Cobalt Soul Archive building, back leaning against a pillar, one leg up and set against the smooth cement surface, her arms crossed.

“You’re late”, she told him. Caleb adjusted the strap of his bag. “I’m punctual.”

“One minute late.”

“If you insist.” Caleb wasn’t in the mood for an argument. “How are things with Jester?”

Beau groaned. “Why do you always ask questions like that?”

Caleb merely raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Ugh.” Beau rolled her eyes. “I haven’t told her yet, okay? It’s only been a few days!”

“Five days, actually.”

Beau flipped him off. “I didn’t tell her yet, okay, and I’m not going to-“

“Why not?”

“-not until she’s back from visiting her mother. Let a girl finish her sentences!”

That was fair. Caleb nodded. “Okay. But you should tell her at some point.”

“Fuck you. I decide when.” Beau pushed herself away from the pillar and shouldered her backpack. “So, you wanna do research or not?”

Caleb nodded, and they went into the archive. The next three hours, they spend in silence. Caleb was reading, and Beau alternated between flipping through pages and playing around with her phone.

They did this often, lately. Caleb had his thirst for new knowledge, and Beau had a key to the libraries and archives of the Cobalt Soul and permission to bring in other people if she trusted them. It was a good deal for both of them; Caleb got to learn, Beau was left alone by other Cobalt Soul members because they thought she and Caleb were doing research together.

(She also, secretly, enjoyed hanging out with Caleb. As buddies. Maybe because he was quiet and didn’t annoy her much)

“Thank you”, Caleb said when they left the archive. Beau shrugged. “No problem.”

“So, uh…” Caleb scratched the back of his neck. “I think I should pick up Molly.”

Beau nodded. “Yeah. I have to go teach some kids how to not get knocked out.”

“You teach children?”

Beau shrugged again. “Looks good on job applications. Also, someone’s gotta teach them how to throw a punch when they need it.”

Caleb laughed. “And they let you do that?”

Beau did what she did best – she flipped him off and walked away. Caleb chuckled and made his way over to the tram station. Time to pick up Mollymauk.

Molly worked at the local Public School of Art and Theatre. It was a school for more or less all ages, all people, all classes of society, and there were weekly and weekend courses. Molly taught the younger children, pre-schoolers and primary school students. His classes were mostly on painting and crafting, some also on theatre, and on Saturdays, he had a dance class with seven- to twelve-year-olds. That was his favourite one.

“Mr. Mollyyyyy!”

A little half-orc girl, maybe five years old, stood next to him and tugged on his sleeve. She had smears of red frosting on her cheek.

“What is it, Luna?” Molly knelt down and wiped off the frosting.

“Thomas won’t let me use the piggy-cutter!”

Molly gasped, overexaggerating – his dramatic antics always made the kids giggle. “What? He doesn’t let you use the… well, come on then! We’ll tell him!”

He took Luna by the hand and walked her over to the table were the kids were using different cookie cutters to get their Christmas biscuits. Dani, his co-worker, was busy standing by the oven and making sure the biscuits weren’t burning, but the kids were already old enough that they could be left alone with cookie cutters and dough. Thomas, a human boy, was currently using a little pig-shaped cutter. The whole baking tray next to him was full of little pig-biscuits.

“Thomas”, Molly said gently. “I understand that you like the pig, here, but Luna wants to use it, too. Would you mind letting her use it for a while?”

Thomas pouted. “But I had it first!”

“And now Luna wants it second.” Molly took an overly deep sigh. “Well, you two, we are facing a little dilemma here…”

He leaned down to the boy and whispered: “Thomas, apart from the pig… which one do you like?”

Thomas thought about it, then pointed at a dragon-shaped cutter. Molly nodded, grabbed it and gave it to Luna. “Now, Luna, you have something Thomas wants, and he has something you want. What do we do in those situations?”

Luna thought for a moment, then turned towards Thomas. “You wanna trade cutters?”, she asked.

Thomas looked from the pig to the dragon, the nodded. They swapped cutters and went back to work. Molly smiled, then walked over to the next table and helped a group of six-year-olds decorate the finished baked biscuits with green, red, while and silver frosting. It was messy business, glazing biscuits with little kids, but Molly had never really cared about such things…

About ten minutes before his shift (and the class) ended, the kitchen door opened and in came Caleb, his cheeks and nose red from the cold outside, still in his coat and scarf.

“Hey Caleb!”, Dani called. “What a nice surprise!”

Caleb came over almost every Tuesday to pick up Molly, so most of Molly’s co-workers knew him by now. So did some of the children.

“ _Hallo_ Caleb!”, a little tiefling boy, Elwood, called, and ran over to hug Caleb’s legs. Elwood was the adopted son of two Zemnians, and that was the main reason he liked Caleb.

Caleb reached down and gently ruffled Elwood’s dark green hair. “ _Hallo, Kleiner Mann_.”

“We’re almost finished here”, Molly said. “D’you want to help?”

Caleb nodded and without missing a beat went over to Dani and helped her clean up the oven and work surfaces and to put away the flour and utensils, wash the cookie cutters and so on. Meanwhile Mollymauk helped the kids pack their biscuits into little metal boxes, the kind that was round and had nice Christmas-y motives on them.

“Okay, everybody’s got their things?”, he called when the last cookie box was closed and sealed off. “Okay, that’s _Goodbye_ for today! I hope you all had fun?”

A little almost-choir of child voices answered: “Yes!” and “Yeah”

In front of the door were already some parents, waiting patiently (or less so) for their little ones.

Dani stayed behind, which left Caleb and Molly in charge of helping the younger kids with their jackets and shoes and bags.

“ _Tschüss, Herr Caleb_!”, Elwood said and waved a last time before walking away with his father. Caleb gave him a small smile.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” Molly leaned his head against Caleb’s shoulder. “Okay, that’s it. Let me grab my coat and then we can go.”

Caleb nodded and motioned towards the staircase, signalling that he’d be waiting in the hallway.

Molly grabbed his things, said Bye to Dani, picked up his own box of biscuits and then went to join Caleb.

On the way out, he came past two women, likely mothers, in the hallway. They were human, light-skinned and in their mid-thirties – and they stared at Mollymauk in obvious disgust. He still held his coat in his arm, so his _Zadash Public School of Art and Theatre_ shirt was very much visible. Only teachers wore those shirts, a fact all parents were aware of.

“I can’t believe that one teaches my children”, one of the mothers whispered. The other one nodded. “Right? I mean, is it too much to ask for a normal…”

Molly walked past, pretending he hadn’t heard them at all – sometimes, he cursed the keen tiefling hearing.

Caleb was waiting outside, at the door. He noticed immediately that Molly was angry. Very angry.

“What it is?”, he asked, taking his boyfriend’s hand and gently leading him away from the building. Molly took a long breath in attempt to calm himself before answering: “Xenophobic parents.”

“Did they…”

“No, they were whispering. Didn’t think I’d hear them.”

Molly sighed. “I guess that’s to be expected, even at inclusive schools like the ZPAT…”

He pulled on his coat. “Let’s go home. I don’t want to think about it.”

Caleb nodded, took his hand again, and off they were.

Jester needed a bigger suitcase. How was she supposed to fit all the things she needed for a short trip to the Menagerie coast and to Nicodranas?! She could barely close the stupid thing!

Maybe, if she didn’t pack that many dresses…? But they were all pretty, picking was hard…

Urgh, this was frustrating! Why did packing always take to long, why was it always so difficult?

Jester slumped down next to her bed, arms crossed.

She loved it in Nicodranas, she had grown up there and she would never stop loving the sea and the beach and the little white houses with their red, blue and yellow roofs… but going there was the part that was so hard. Jester didn’t like trains very much, but she didn’t own a car (and didn’t know how to drive one, either) and taxi wouldn’t be affordable for the whole journey from Zadash to Nicodranas…

But Jester wanted to go, even if she dreaded the long train ride. She missed her mother when she was in Zadash. Yeah, sure, her Dad lived in Zadash, but Jester barely saw him. She wasn’t particularly close with him, partially because he hadn’t wanted to, partially because she hadn’t wanted to. It was a complicated thing with her and her Dad, yeah.

With her mother, things were less complicated. Her Momma was busy, sure, but apart from that, everything was great with her.

Her mother was famous, a famous singer and courtesan. Jester wasn’t ashamed of that. The people in Zadash were strange about people that worked in the sexy business, as Jester liked to call it – it was a shameful thing to them. Jester didn’t know if it was so that the Menagerie Coast people were overly open to that kind of business, or if the Wildemount people all had canes up their butts. All that she knew was that she loved her mother very much, and that she was the most beautiful person in the world, with her red skin and dark hair and golden eyes…

Ah, her Momma. Jester was glad to go and visit her.

She sighed, then got back up, put on some Christmas music and returned to packing her suitcase. She left out half of the clothes she had packed in before, and finally made enough room for Marion Lavorre’s gift and a metal box full of different biscuits. Then, finally, she tossed her passport, her keys, her sketchbook and pencils and her coin purse into her pink backpack and put it on the floor next to the suitcase.

One year. A long time. A very long time, especially if it was one whole year of having beaten a mental illness. Caduceus felt his heart beat louder in his chest when he saw the date on his calendar. Only two days away now…

It had been a tough year, if he thought about it… he had been anorexic for almost three years before he had realized how unwell he was, and that he needed to stop.

Stop.

Not an easy thing to do to begin with – one did not simply stop having an eating disorder. No, it was a long, hard way full of holes one could fall into. And Caduceus had fallen on the way, twice. The important thing was that he had gotten back up, had continued. And the Wildmother and his friends had been there to help him. Caduceus was glad of that.

Exactly 373 days ago, he had gone to a doctor and asked for help for the first time. 373 days ago, for the first time, he had looked at himself in the mirror in the living room of the little house next to the Clay cemetery, and had confronted himself with his own looks – hollowed stomach, ribs showing under skin and fur, hair and fur matted and lifeless, his face puffy from the water rising up, hands and wrists brittle and thin…

It hadn’t been nice to see himself, to force himself to see past his issues and to just see _his body_. But he had made it. Now, he stood in the same spot, a year later, with a slimmer, un-swollen face, with meat and muscle on his bones and softly shimmering pink hair, one side shaved, the other half currently braided. He was still very thin, but he was out of danger, and he looked healthy again…

It was nice, yes.

He got a text from Clarabella, and two calls – one from Cassia and one from his mother and father – two days later. They all congratulated him, expressed their pride and happiness.

“You should be celebrating!”, Cassia said. “You know, go out with your friends or something! One year, that’s a lot.”

It really was. Caduceus wasn’t one for parties or going out, but he liked being around his friends – his second family – and so, after a call to Fjord and a text into the group chat, it was all decided. Another three days after the anniversary, the Mighty Nein came to the Blooming Grove. Minus Jester – she was already on her way to Nicodranas, but she had wished them all fun and a good time beforehand and had congratulated Caduceus in a very long voice-message.

Caduceus really wasn’t one for big parties, so in the end, they all just sat around in the living room and chatted. And there was food. Caduceus had re-discovered his joy for cooking in the last year, and he loved cooking for his friends. So did Fjord and Yasha, so the three of them had made a small but more than decent meal with roasted meat, steamed vegetables and handmade pasta. And, of course, there was tea. Loads of tea. It was a Clay dinner after all. There also were biscuits – Molly brought sugar-dough and red velvet cake biscuits, and Yasha and Zuala came with a large box of Xhorhasian pepper cakes.

Things were nice. It was a nice way to spend the third Sunday of December. With his friends. Talking. Laughing. Eating. Having a nice time.

This was really nice.

**Two weeks until Christmas**

The tram was full. Overly full. Caleb tried to ignore it. He was, technically, used to it – it was getting closer and closer to Christmas, after all, and more and more people went into town to buy presents or food or… whatever.

It had been busy at the bookstore today. More than usual for sure. Less regulars, more new faces. Caleb was happy that more people decided to buy books as holiday presents, especially for their children…

Caleb got off line 37 and made his way through the Eisenburg-station, one of the bigger tram stations. The name was Zemnian.

_Eisenburg_ – Iron Castle.

That sounded intimidating, if he thought about it… It reminded Caleb of his younger years, of Rexxentrum and the boarding school… Eodwulf. Trent Ikithon. Astrid…

He hurried down the escalator and managed to catch the line 12 tram last-minute. Of course, there were no free seats, and he hadn’t expected any. He carefully moved through the mass of people, mumbling “I’m sorry”s and other things like that when he bumped into them, until he stood more in the front. Trams usually were emptier in the front. That wasn’t the case today though… Maybe he should get out and get the next one…

No. That would be a waste of time, and he really just wanted to go home, eat something, drink a cup of coffee and maybe read a bit until Molly came home (there was house-work to do, but he didn’t particularly felt like doing that. It was necessary bit not exactly pleasant.) He reached up and grabbed one of the leather slings that hung from the ceiling of the trams so that passengers had something to hold on to… and prepared for the ride home.

To get back to his and Mollymauk’s apartment, he had to take the 37 for four stops, and then the 12 for 20 stops. 78 minutes total, counting in the walking between the platforms at Eisenburg-Station and the walk from the tram stop to the apartment building… if the trams were punctual.

The tram got emptier around at the half of the journey, when people started to only get off and not on the tram. Caleb thought about all sorts of things, went over how work had gone today in his mind, then recalled the 1-year-not-starving-myself-dinner-party-thing they’d had the last Sunday at Caduceus’…

And then, nine stops from his, he saw her.

She sat almost across of him, wearing in-ear-headphones, her hair longer now, but… Caleb recalled the encounter with the man he had thought to be Eodwulf. Maybe this was the same? Maybe he was growing paranoid…? But back then, it had been dark, with only a bit of yellow streetlamp light; the tram had white light panels that shone brightly, and it was still daylight outside… and Caleb never, ever forgot a face. When she looked up about two stops later (and Caleb had been breathing heavily and trying to calm himself and ignore the sick feeling in his guts), it was certain. She had gotten older, her hair was longer, her skin paler, but it was her.

Astrid.

Caleb only barely suppressed a whimper. His breathing hitched, his heard started racing…

_Don’t notice me, please, don’t let her notice me, oh Gods, please…_

He had changed more than her, he knew that. His posture, his clothes. His skin was more tanned because Zadash had better weather than Rexxentrum or the Zemni Fields, he was more freckled, his hair was longer and had started to curl slightly, and it was lighter from the sun… He had a bit of a beard, which he knew could make quite the difference to a clean-shaven face… He had changed. On the inside more than outside, but still enough in his looks that, if he was lucky, she wouldn’t even recognize him…

Three stops before Caleb had to get off, Astrid looked up again – and straight into Caleb’s face. He tried to pretend like he didn’t know her, didn’t even give signs he had noticed her, slowly looked away…

Had she recognized him? Had she? Hadn’t she?

Caleb didn’t give himself time to check. When the robotic announcement came from the speakers, announcing: _Next Stop: Botanical Gardens_ – doors open on the left side, Caleb got off, trying not to make it seem like he was fleeing. He didn’t dare to look back, so he walked away, as if he had a purpose, as if he had planned it from the start.

He came home almost an hour later than he would have been with the tram, but he didn’t dare to return to the station. He walked over to the Botanical Gardens and took the line 14 to go home from there. The whole time, until he shut the door of their flat behind himself and slumped down on the floor, he was shaking and barely holding himself together.

Now, in the safety of his home, he broke.

Mollymauk came home later today – his dance class had had double practise today, because the last week he had cancelled the class due to only a few of his dance-kids having been there – and he had already picked groceries on the way home. When he opened the door, all seemed quiet. Caleb’s coat lay in a corner, his shoes weren’t there at all.

“Caleb?”, Molly called, setting down his bags. “I’m home, who else is?”

No answer, but from the living room, he heard uncontrolled, unsteady breathing and supressed sobs.

When he looked around the corner, he saw Caleb, slumped together against their heater, arms wrapped around himself, his fingers digging forcefully into his wrists. He was crying, and trying to be quiet, and his whole body was shaking. Frumpkin walked around Caleb, from one side to the other, not ever stopping, but meowing and purring softly to try to get Caleb’s attention, and rubbing his head against the man’s hands and legs. Caleb didn’t seem to notice.

“Caleb?”

Molly was at his side in no time, but didn’t touch him – Caleb rarely fully panicked anymore, but when he did, touching was a bad idea.

“Caleb, it’s me. Mollymauk.”

Caleb didn’t look up, but he gave a small noise of acknowledgement. Well… that was something at least. Molly carefully folded his legs and sat down in front of Caleb, careful to leave space between them.

“Caleb, what happened?”, he asked gently, even though he already had a faint idea. He knew Caleb’s triggers after all – fire sometimes, less now, his old name, people that looked distinctively like the ones from his past, needles and some more.

“I…” Caleb took a shaky breath, looking up to Mollymauk slowly. There were half-dried tear-tracks on his cheeks.

“So.” Molly slowly moved a bit closer and more to Caleb’s side. “Something is wrong.”

Caleb nodded.

“Panic attack?”

“Not quite.” Caleb’s voice was shaky as well. “Frumpkin prevented that.”

“Breakdown then.”

Caleb nodded once more.

Molly made sure he sat right next to him, and very slowly placed his arm around his shoulders, giving him enough time to pull away. He didn’t. Instead, Caleb rested his head on Molly’s shoulder. Molly pulled him closer and started running one hand through his red hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asked.

A small headshake. “Not yet.”

“Okay. Do you want me to distract you from it?”

A pause.

“Please?”

“Whatever you want, my darling.” Molly pressed a kiss to Caleb’s temple, then pulled him to his feet. “Okay, I already know what we’ll to. Go, get your coat, and gloves!”

There were many things Mollymauk Tealeaf could do. He could read fortunes (or pretend to very convincingly, anyways), he could do magic, he was brilliant at make-up and hair-braiding, he made an excellent impression of a duck, he could make people laugh, he could run and dance in ridiculously high-heeled shoes… but one thing he definitely could not do was ice-skating.

And now here he was, holding onto the railing of the ice rink, on unsteady legs like a fawn. And because life was unfair, Caleb had no problems at all with ice-skating. He was standing steadily, moving over the frozen ground surprisingly elegant and swiftly.

“How are you so good at this?”, Molly asked. Caleb shrugged.

“I had rollerblades as a child.”

He did a small slow spin. “Not so different.”

Molly snorted, then held out a hand. “Well… a little help would be appreciated.”

Caleb mumbled something in Zemnian, then took his hand and started guiding him over the ice.

“Why did you want to go ice-skating if you didn’t know how to do it?”, he asked.

Molly shrugged. “I thought I _could_ do it. I have great balance, normally.”

Caleb chuckled.

“And it seemed like a nice date-idea.”

Caleb’s chuckle grew into a full-on laugh. “That is so typical for you, Mollymauk.”

“Maybe.” Molly made a throw-away-motion with the hand that wasn’t entwined with Caleb’s at the moment. “But I made you smile again.”

Nicodranas was comfortably warm, and sunny. Jester enjoyed being able to wear short-sleeved tops and skirts and dresses without thick tights underneath again. She did run warmer than humans or half-orcs and goblins, yes, but Zadash was really cold this season, even for hot-blooded tieflings. So naturally she enjoyed it all the more to sit together with her mother, on the balcony of her room at the _Lavish Chateau_ , with a large ice cream bowl in front of her.

“Oh Jester…” Marion held Jester’s hand, squeezed it gently. “It is so nice to see you again. I have missed you.”

“I missed you too, Momma.” Jester smiled. “But Zadash is great, even though it’s very cold right now, like, really-really-really cold… Yasha and Zuala got married, did I even tell you that?”

“You did say you were going to a wedding”, Marion said. “Both to me in your messages, and to all the people in Wildemount over the radio.”

“Do you get Critical Radio in here in Nicodranas?”, Jester asked. “Really?”

“Well… not on the actual radio, but online, yes.” Marion shrugged. “So, how was it? Tell me everything! I love weddings!”

So Jester retold everything. She described the ceremony, the flowers, the food, and the music, the dances, and then this and that, and Yasha’s and Zuala’s dresses (Zuala’s had been bright white, Yasha’s a pale ice-grey, both had been about ankle-length), the other guests and their outfits…

“Oh, and Beau was great!” Jester clasped her hands together. “She doesn’t like dresses, and so she had a suit, and she looked _hot!_ Like, very very hot!”

Marion gave her daughter a tell-tale smile. “Beau, hm?”

“Yeah, she was great! It’s sad she didn’t dance though…” Jester sighed. “I would’ve asked her, but she never dances… so…”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Jester nodded. Her smile grew a bit brighter. “She’s amazing, Momma! She’s so kick-ass, and snarky, and she’s actually really pretty, just not, you know, standard pretty, long hair, big boobs, blue eyes, blonde; well, she has the blue eyes, but the rest… and she’s super super muscular, and… she’s just really great, basically.”

Jester took a breath after her long Beau-is-great-monologue. Her mother chuckled.

“Oh my little Sapphire… is this the first time you’ve ever been so… passionate about someone.”

She pressed her hands to her chest, where her heart was.

“I have been in love before”, Jester mumbled. Her mother nodded.

“But not like this, am I right?”

Jester sighed. “No. But I don’t know if she likes me back, Momma! I mean, I know she likes me, just not if she _likes me_ likes me. I don’t think I’m her type, really. She’s more into tall girls. Like, badass girls. Like Yasha…”

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” Marion reached out, ran her hand over Jester’s cheek. “My Jester, from what I have heard, you are… _badass_ as well. And I think you should try to forge your fate yourself. And if Beau is part of that fate, then know that I fully support you.”

Jester squealed, jumped to her feet and hugged her mother. “Aaawww! Thank you, Momma!”

Marion gently pulled back, but still held onto her daughter’s hands. “I am very proud of you, Jester. You know that, right?”

Jester nodded.

“Good. And now, when you go back, you get yourself that girl that has your heart beating faster!”

Jester giggled, but nodded.

The Clays were a big family. Always had been; the Clay family tree was huge. Caduceus had always liked that, though it made writing cards and letters for holidays a long process. He had developed a system though, and it worked. So in the evenings, after he and Fjord had wrapped up their work for the day and locked the iron entry gate, he sat in the living room at the table, with cards and paper and envelopes and little pressed flowers and sealing wax and all sorts of other things in front of him, and wrote letter after letter after letter.

Fjord sat across from him. He had offered to help with Caduceus’ Christmas post, but for the last few minutes, he had been staring off into the distance.

Caduceus carefully pressed down a pressed and dried pink forget-me-not onto a card for a cousin, fixated it with some clear tape and then cleared his throat. Fjord flinched back into reality.

“Are you alright?” Caduceus picked up his fountain pen and began writing the next card, eyeing Fjord after every third word for a second.

“Uh… yeah.” Fjord ran a hand through his hair. “Just thinking. About, uh, Christmas.”

Caduceus hummed and continued writing. After a moment, Fjord continued.

“It’s just… I grew up as an orphan, you know that, and I’ve never had… any Christmas traditions, really. It’s been so different every year. That’s what I was thinking about.”

Caduceus nodded to himself. He had only known Fjord and their other friends for about four years, when Yasha and Zuala had opened their flower shop just across the cemetery. They had all known each other before, for eight years, if Caduceus remembered correctly…

“Last year was the thing with Yasha”, Fjord said. “And the year before that, Jester was in Nicodranas with her mother to celebrate, and Molly and Caleb were… somewhere, I don’t know, and Beau was out with someone from the Cobalt Soul… we never celebrated all together. I just noticed that. We never made traditions together.”

“We really haven’t”, Caduceus said slowly. “Have we? Kinda sad, if you think about it.”

Fjord nodded. “That’s what I meant.”

Caduceus held a stick of metallic-green wax over the flame of a candle and let it fall on the point of the envelope’s closure part, then pressed down the stamp.

“Did your family have traditions? Things you did?” Fjord returned to putting finished cards in their respective envelopes.

Caduceus thought about it. “It’s been a while since all my family was together for Christmas”, he said. “But when I was younger, we all… well, we didn’t have a tree in the house, but there’s a large pine tree in the back of the garden, right? We would decorate that one, with metallic spheres and little magic lights and apples and strings of berries… and we always ate the same thing on Christmas eve. Well, things. Several.”

“And what?”

“I forgot what it was called”, Caduceus admitted. “But it had some kind of lentil-pasta, and chopped mushrooms, and black-moss-sauce with foxberries. I think the recipe is somewhere in one of the cookbooks…”

“Sounds interesting at least.” Fjord handed him three envelopes to seal. “Was it good?”

“I always thought it was. But I suppose that is a taste-thing…”

“Probably. Did you, uh, exchange gifts?”

“Oh yes!” Caduceus nodded. “Usually hand-made things, but some were bought too. One year, when I was very little, I got a sunflower.”

Fjord chuckled. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Caduceus shrugged and pressed the sealing stamp down. “Why do you ask about it, anyways?”

“I’m just generally interested, I guess.” Fjord shrugged. “I think it’s sad we never all celebrated together.”

“Maybe we could propose a shared Christmas party to the others?” Caduceus looked at two pressed flowers, a chamomile and a poppy. In the end, he decided for the ELEFANT and taped it down on the card to his uncle Claudius. “We could combine traditions, make our own? If that is important to you… I think it would be nice, and the others probably would as well.”

Fjord shrugged, but Caduceus noticed how his yellow eyes lit up at the idea.

“We can ask them at least”, the half-orc said. “Hey, what flower is this?”

He help up a little stem with small purple blossoms on them.

“That? Oh… that would be a verbena. My father loves those.”

“So, little man, what are we gonna do about that girl?” Nott pulled Luc on the sofa besides her. “Any ideas yet?”

“I thought I could make her a gift?” Luc shrugged. “I think she likes… guns and other weapons like that.”

“Weapons, huh?”

“Guns?!”

Nott was impressed. Yeza, who stood in the doorway and had no context to the conversation, looked nervous.

“Not like real guns. I don’t think.” Luc shrugged. “Her father apparently used to make guns back in the day. She told us about that in History class, when we had the family trees.”

“That sounds… interesting.” Yeza tried his best not to seem concerned about children and guns in the same context.

“Oh, I know!”, Nott said. “Maybe we can make, like, a very pretty gun replica? One from wood or something, to put on her shelf or something?”

Luc frowned. “ _Can_ we make one? That really looks _real_ and nice?”

“Of course we can, somehow!”, Nott promised. Luc smiled brightly, then jumped onto his feet and ran to his room, shouting: “I’ll draw a sketch now!”

“What was that about?”, Yeza asked, and Nott told him of Luc’s little crush and their plan to woo her.

“Oh, well, if this is what it is…” Yeza scratched his chin. “I’ll gladly help. My specialty is more in mixing chemicals and such, but I’m sure we can build something like Luc thinks.”

“If we work together, sure. Maybe I find something useful at the pawnshop.”

“Or Caleb has a book on making props in his store?”, Yeza thought out loud. Nott grinned and kissed him on the cheek. “I like how you think! Propmaking, that’s a good idea there!”

Yeza blushed. “Oh, well… for the boy. As long as it isn’t actually a dangerous weapon, I’m okay with it.”

“I would never give Luc or another child a gun!”, Nott swore. “I might be a bit reckless, but not that reckless!”

“You did allow Luc to learn to shoot a crossbow…”

“Those are safer than guns, his only shoots felt balls!”

Yeza laughed. “I know, darling… it was still concerning at first.”

**One week until Christmas**

“You know what? I’ve been thinking.”

“About what, Fjord?” Jester’s voice was muffled from the bite of donut in her mouth.

They were sitting at their favourite meeting point, the Invulnerable Vagrant Café. It was a nice, big store that belonged to a Firbolg man named Pumat Sol – who had three identical copies, also named Pumat Sol (it took some getting used to, but the friends had grown to love the place and it’s peculiar owners. Also, the baked goods and the coffee were amazing).

Fjord took a sip of his coffee before he continued talking. “Well, actually it was Caduceus’ idea… how about we all celebrate together this year?”

“What, you mean Christmas?” Beau pushed her piece of cake around on the plate. Fjord nodded.

Beau shrugged. “I don’t know… sounds good to me.”

“I’m in, too.” Jester grinned and took another bite. “Sounds fun.”

“Not celebrating with your mother?”, Caleb asked. Jester shook her head. “Noooo… not this year. Kinda wanted to be with you guys anyways.”

“We’re in, too”, Zuala said. “Right, Yash?”

Yasha nodded.

“Us, too”, Mollymauk said.

“I’d have to ask Yeza first”, Nott said. “But generally… yeah, sure. Why not? Sounds fun.”

“Then it’s decided.” Fjord grinned to himself and took another sip of coffee.

“You know what? I think that’s a great idea.” Mollymauk leaned back on his chair. “A really great idea. But I’ll probably have to join you a little later in the evening… my dance kids have a performance at the theatre.”

“Oh!” Jester practically shot up in her seat. “The theatre that’s across your school, that one?”

“Is there another one?”, Beau asked, not sounding very interested.

“Actually”, Caleb said. “There are three, four if you count the one that was closed…”

“Anyways!”, Jester said. “Are you part of the Christmas Concert thingy?”

“Yup.” Molly said it in a way that the P made a popping-sound. “Two dances. Twenty-two kids. A nightmare come true.”

His smile revealed that he didn’t actually mind it at all.

Jester giggled. “Oh, oh! Are you performing too, Molly?”  
“Nah, I’m just there to watch and guide my kiddies.” Molly grinned. “I don’t think my… usual style of performance… would be well-placed at that specific theatre.”

Caleb’s ears turned bright red in an instant.

“I’m singing there that evening”, Jester said. “Maybe we can meet there? I was gonna invite all of you anyways!”

“Well, I think that sounds like a plan.” Molly leaned back even further.

“You’re gonna fall”, Caleb said without even looking at his boyfriend. Molly stuck out his tongue to him – and fell, together with his chair.

They all burst into laughter.

Two days later, Molly and Yasha met up in the city to buy presents for their friends. As always, Yasha already had a list of things she wanted to look for, or needed for crafting gifts; Molly had nothing more than a vague idea or two. He preferred to look at things and decide spontaneously.

“Well, my dear Mrs. Yasha?”, Molly asked after he had hugged her for a greeting. “How is your wife?”

He loved pointing out that Yasha and Zuala were married now. He was incredibly proud of them.

“She’s good. Busy.” Yasha shouldered her backpack and they started their way towards the first store, a shop that sold crafting materials _en masse_. “And how is Caleb?”

Molly sighed. “Honestly? Not good.”

Yasha furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“Ugh, if only I knew!” Molly shoved his hands into his pockets and his shoulders slumped. “When I came home last week, he was on the brink of having a panic attack, but he didn’t want to talk about it.”

Yasha hummed quietly. “And what did you do?”

“I, uh, took him ice-skating. As a distraction.” Molly sighed again. “It seemed like a good idea then.”

Yasha put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “It… sound like a good idea. Distracting him, I mean.”

“Yeah, and he was better at first. Or seemed it anyways.” Molly sounded both frustrated and hurt. “But I can see that he’s not doing alright, but he… he doesn’t talk to me!”

Yasha sighed. “Did you try to talk about it with him?”

Molly nodded. “Four times. He keeps saying he is fine. But he isn’t. He’s not sleeping well, he’s eating less. It’s like he has reset to how he was before… before we were dating. Before we all became close friends.”

Yasha remembered that old version of Caleb. The man had grown in the past years, since she knew him. He had gone from a tired, hurting, haunted man with extreme paranoia to someone who could trust, who could laugh, who could love… Caleb had been an unhappy, ill man back then. She didn’t want him to get back to that. None of them did, she knew that.

“He’s hurting, Yash.” Molly sniffed. “And he won’t let me help him.”

“Oh, no, Molly…” Yasha stopped in her tracks to pull her best friend into a hug. “I’m sure he’ll let you – remember, he didn’t use to take good care of himself. I think… as bad as that is, I think he hasn’t realized he is hurting. Not fully.”

Molly sniffed again.

“Give him time, I guess”, Yasha said. “I don’t know him as well as you do, but… I know he’ll come around. He trusts you more than anyone. He will talk to you.”

Molly sighed, but pulled away and gave Yasha a small smile. “Thanks, Yash. I… needed that.”

He straightened his back. “Now, what do you think? Let’s go get the gifts and then get some punch?”

Yasha smiled and nodded.

Three hours later, they both had much lighter coin purses, many bags full of gifts and crafting material and aching feet, but they were happy with their purchases and their punch (Pumat sold excellent apple-cinnamon-punch)

“Here you go, Mrs. Trickfoot. Hope you like it!” Zuala handed the white-haired gnome woman at the door a flower arrangement of fir branches, mistletoe, holly and poinsettia, with red ribbons and a stick of cinnamon, accepted the tip and skipped back to the car, waving the woman goodbye before getting back behind the steering wheel.

She absolutely loved doing customer runs. She loved putting the arrangements and wreaths and bouquets she and Yasha had made into the back of the car and driving all around Zadash, blasting music in the drivers’ cabin and having a little jam session whilst delivering the flowers.

She turned the key and turned the music back on – a wild mix of different songs, some of them Christmas-y, some… less so.

“ _Your eyes tell me how you want me! I can feel in your heart beat!_ ”, she sang and made her way to the next stop on her list – a restaurant that had ordered a bunch of small white poinsettia bouquets. “I know you like what you see! Hold me, I’ll give you what you need, wrap your love around me! You’re so excited, I can feel you getting hotter, oh baby… I’ll take you down, I’ll take you do-hown…”

Life was nice, really nice. Especially around Christmas… Aaaand she had taken a wrong turn. Great – back the same way, then…

When Zuala came home, Yasha was already there,, though not long yet as it seemed – she still wore her jacket and all. A backpack and a large canvas bag full of things were standing in the hallway. Zuala grinned to herself, hung up her keys and practically jumped into her wife’s arms.   
“Hi!”

“Hey.” Yasha seemed surprised, but smiled. “Good day, today?”

“Very. Zuala grinned. “Many deliveries, many good tips – people are so generous around Christmas!”

“Generous is what you call it?” Yasha chuckled. “I’d call it greedy. Prices in the stores get higher every year, and people get grumpier. And they push people.”

She glanced up to the sky. “I think it’s the weather. There’s gonna be rain today.”

Zuala sighed – she wasn’t overly fond of rain even though she and Yasha worshipped the Stormlord – and then kissed Yasha onto the tip of her nose.

They ended up where they often ended up – on the sofa, under the plushy blanket Molly and Caleb had gotten them, with cups of hot cocoa and a film (today it was a Zemnian one called _The Time when Santa fell from the Sky_ … it was dubbed into Common, but not very well) on in the background.

“Did you get all you wanted?”, Zuala asked. Yasha nodded. “I mean, I had my list. It wasn’t that hard, except for a few things.”

“You go about it so… rationally.” Zuala laughed. “I still need to think of gifts for our friends.”

“We can give them my things together…”, Yasha suggested, playing with one of Zuala’s long braids absently. She seemed troubled somehow. Less smiley than usual…

“What’s wrong, Yash?”

“Caleb.” Yasha sighed. “Molly told me he’s… bad. Again.”

“Bad how?”

“Molly said he was nearly panicking last week, but he doesn’t want to talk about it.” Yasha rubbed her face. “It’s just… I remember Caleb from when we were all… new. Together. Us as friends, I mean. I worry.”

Zuala nodded. She, too, had some memories of the Caleb from the time when they had all met and grown closer. The thought of a setback unsettled her, but… she knew Mollymauk. She knew how caring he could be.

“Molly will find a way.” She didn’t have to fake the confident tone in her voice to comfort Yasha – she had utmost faith in Mollymauk Tealeaf. “He and Caleb have been good for each other, haven’t they? They can work this out.”

Yasha nodded. “Yeah. You’re probably right…”

“Well, duh!” Zuala laughed. “I’m always right!”

“Even that one time you said tomatoes were vegetables?”

“… I’m almost always right!”

Yasha laughed and wrapped her arm around Zuala. “They’ll be okay, won’t they?”

Zuala pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Of course.”

They returned to watching the film.

“What is this about anyways?”

“I have no idea. The dub is very confusing…”

Molly was a light sleeper, had been ever since the carnival had taken him in, back when he had just woken up with no memories in his mind. He had been weary back then, nervous, and had developed a way of sleeping lightly and waking up easily. It remained until now. Therefor, it wasn’t much of a surprise that he awoke the second Caleb started stirring next to him.

A bit confused still, Molly blinked into the darkness, waited for his eyes to adjust to it, then looked over to Caleb. He was still asleep, eyes squeezed shut and face all twisted, as if he was in pain, and slowly shifting, not quite tossing…

Molly reached out and rested his hand on Caleb’s back.

“Hey”, he said softly. “Wake up, _Herr_ Widogast. You’re okay.”

Caleb didn’t do him the favour of complying, but started whispering. It was mostly Zemnian, which Molly had no clue of apart from a handful of phrases Caleb used often, but some Common and Celestial were speckled in between. But Molly didn’t need to understand the words to understand the meaning. He tried waking Caleb once more, shaking him gently, then a bit more roughly – and, with a shout, Caleb startled awake, shooting up in bed, breathing heavily, eyes still clouded and unseeing… He grabbed his own arm, started scratching at his scars, seeming determined to tear them open –

Molly grabbed his wrists, held them with all his power and hissed in his Devil’s tongue: “ _Widogast! Enough of that. Time for that later. Wake up! Now!_ ”

It really was a last-straw-kinda-solution, and Molly hated using it on his friends, but it worked; Caleb’s eyes cleared, he exhaled, his glance met Molly’s.

“Okay?”, Molly asked softly. “Can I let go?”

Caleb didn’t answer. A whimper escaped his throat, his breathing hitched…

Molly pulled him into a hug when his boyfriend burst into tears. Caleb Widogast was a silent crier, no sobs and only few whimpers, just shaking and grabbing onto Molly’s shoulders, his nails digging into his skin…

“It’s okay now”, Molly answered. “I am here. You’re safe. Calm now… calm down, Caleb, I’ve got you…”

They stayed like this for a while, Caleb crying and slowly calming himself, letting himself be calmed, and Molly holding him, running his hand over his back and through his hair, mumbling reassurances and gentle nothings, until he felt the shaking ease and heard the rhythm of Caleb’s breaths get steadier, slower.

“See?”, he said quietly, pulling away just enough that he could cup Caleb’s face with his hands and rest his forehead against Caleb’s. “That’s it, you’re okay. You are safe, you’re home. Nobody can harm you.”

“Some can”, Caleb croaked.

“Not when I’m around.” Molly brushed tangled strands of hair out of Caleb’s face. “Can you tell me what you dreamed about?”

Caleb shook his head.

“Please?” Molly ran his thumb over Caleb’s cheeks, wiping away halfway dried tears. “You are hurting, love, and I want to help you. I can’t do that if you keep brushing me off.”

Caleb exhaled. Took a breath. Exhaled again.

“Astrid.”

He practically spat out the name. “I saw her.”

“In your dream?”

“There, too.”

Ah. Oh. Fuck.

“The day we were ice-skating.”

It was no question. Caleb nodded anyways. “I’m sorry… should have told you…”

“Yes, you should have.” Molly placed a kiss on his forehead. “But you didn’t feel ready, and I accept that. I don’t like it, but I accept it.”

“I think she saw me.”

“Saw? Or recognize?”

“I…” Caleb shrugged helplessly. “Both? I’m not sure. I got away before… anything could happen. I don’t think she followed me. Unless she was invisible, or scrying…”

“She wasn’t, I’m sure. If she had followed you home, we would know. We’d be stuck in a whole different glass of jam if she had.”

Despite the situation, Caleb huffed out a laugh at the strange expression. Molly smiled, but then put on an earnest tone. “You know that that is behind you, right?”

Caleb nodded hesitantly. “… hard to believe on some days.”

He furrowed his brows, anger gleaming in his eyes. “I get so… frightened… and I hate it…”

Molly squeezed his hands and pressed kisses in both palms. Touch was a good distraction, gave Caleb something to focus on – he had learned that years and years ago.

“It’s been years!”, Caleb whispered. “Years! I should be over it, I should… be stronger, I…”

“You are human, not a robot”, Molly interrupted him. “It’s a trauma, it’s natural. We all get them. Yasha and Zuala? They still get flashbacks to that cult-thing they grew up in. I get nightmares of waking up in a forest without memories. Some crazy witch-person transformed Nott into a goblin and she fears goblins and some days can’t look in the mirror. Beau has trust issues for life from how her parents treated her.”

He ran his hands trough Caleb’s hair, twisting little strands around his fingers.

“We are all somehow cracked at the edges, Caleb. And it’s okay. We help each other. You know that.”

Another hesitant nod.

“Nott isn’t afraid to go out anymore. She’s dodged that facemask and openly walks around with her son and husband”, Molly continued. “Fjord goes to therapy to beat whatever happened in his past. Caduceus defeated his anorexia. I managed to get into a healthy, functioning relationship with someone I adore, and hold it. Keep it.”

Caleb smiled fondly at that.

“And we will get through your demons as well, I swear. We all, we’re doing that together.” Molly wrapped his arms around Caleb once more, and Caleb leaned his head against his shoulder. “And we will all protect you. Should Astrid and Eodwulf, or that arse of so-called-teacher ever find you, we will all be there and ready. You will be. You are so, so much stronger than when we first met. That Caleb back then? Squishy. Easy to kill. The Caleb now? Still squishy, but armed and ready to defend himself. Powerful.”

Another kiss on his forehead.

“My powerful wizard boyfriend.”

Caleb’s hand found his and he wove their fingers together.

“Thank you, Mollymauk.”

“Anytime. I love you. I hope you know that.”

“I… I do. _Ich weiß das_. Love you too.”

They both fell asleep in each other’s arms, spirits a little calmer, feeling a little lighter. F

One step at a time.

**Christmas Eve**

The Public Theatre of Zadash wasn’t exactly huge, but it was big enough. The seats were covered in a dark green faux velvet. An abstract map of the solar system was painted onto the ceiling. There were holly-and-fir-garlands with big red bows everywhere. The stage had a nice dark green curtain.

Jester was happy. A little sad, too, because her mother wasn’t here, but Fjord had promised to film her performance so that she could send it to Marion.

She didn’t have a dressing room to herself, but she hadn’t expected one. She didn’t mind getting ready next to Molly’s little troop of dancers anyways. They were a cute bunch, some human, some tiefling or elven (or part elven anyways), and there was a half-orc girl and a little gnome boy with a large birthmark on his cheek, and a firbolg who was one of the tallest and kept holding onto his own tail as if he was afraid he might lose it otherwise. They all wore green-red striped leggings and red shirts brimmed with green ribbon, and some also had red ribbons in their hair or around their horns. They were adorable.

“You look amazing, Jester, darling”, Molly said as he helped a little green-skinned tiefling with the ribbons on her horns. Jester grinned widely. “Thank you! You look great, too!”

Molly himself hadn’t dressed up – well, not the way his little ones had, anyways. Actually, he was as un-fancy as a Mollymauk Tealeaf could get, clothes-wise - he wore tight turquoise trousers and a deep purple pullover that hugged his body tight enough to be elegant and not lumpy, but still looked very comfortable. He did wear earrings and jewellery in his horns, loads of makeup around his red eyes and there was a golden belt that looked like several moons and suns around his waist, but it was still a very, very relaxed look for Molly.

“Thank you.” He blew a kiss in her direction, then started ushering the kids into the direction of the stage. Jester remained in her spot in front of the mirror and tugged at her hair. She had curled it and added holly-decorations (not real holly, but holly imitated with stiff green fabric and red beads). It looked good with her deep red dress. Red _always_ looked good with her blue skin, even though she rarely wore it – it was her Momma’s signature colour after all.

She touched up her lipstick and eyeliner, then went through her vocal warmups.

Their group of friends sat together in the audience, with exception of the two tieflings, obviously. Luc had claimed Caleb’s lab as his seat, and was almost vibrating with excitement.

“What’s got you so _aufgeregt_ , little one?”, Caleb asked quietly.

“Lumi’s performing!”, Luc whispered back. “And I’m giving her a gift after!”

He held up a strangely shaped thing that was wrapped with green-and-gold paper. Caleb smiled – Nott had already told him about Luc’s crush and their plan.

“Is she with the dancers?”, he asked. Luc nodded.

“She’s in Mr. Molly’s group!”

“Oh, is she, _ja_?”

Another eager nod.

“Is she good?”

“I don’t know.” Luc shrugged. “But she’s pretty, and she’s very smart!”

“That’s the important thing.” Caleb gave him a tap on the tip of his nose. Luc giggled.

When he looked to the side, he saw Nott smiling fondly at her little boy.

The Christmas Concert was more a set of different performances in a row. First, a group of teenage actors did a little show and performed the history of Christmas, squeezed into about five minutes. Then, a trio of half-orc boys recited a Christmas poem. A brass band played a little arrangement. Then came Molly’s kids. They danced to a Christmas-song-medley, all of them popular, well-known songs. They were good, though. The kids. Most of them got through the choreography without a hitch, and some of the older ones were actually quite graceful in their way of moving, especially a tall, dark-haired human girl that stood in front. Only a few of them glanced over to the side of the stage. No doubt that was where Molly was standing, helping them out by showing them the right moves if they got stuck.

After that came a quintet of violinists who played _Do they know it’s Christmas_ , then a choir, then Molly’s group again, this time dancing to _Joy to the world_. The firbolg stumbled over his tail somewhere in the middle, but otherwise they were great. And then, finally and last but not least, came Jester. She stood in the middle of the stage, her feet close together, hands folded in front of her torso.

She waited until all was silent, then clicked her heels together three times and conjured her spiritual weapon – which usually looked like a lollipop. Tonight, it looked like a gigantic red-and-white candy cane. The music began to play, and Jester began to sing:

“ _What time is it baby, is it that time again  
When snow will be falling, friends will be calling  
You know it's time when  
There'll be carolers singing Silent Night  
I love when they sing, the feeling it brings  
It's warm as a fire is bright  
Soon there'll be toys for good girls and boys  
And reindeer are heading our way_…”

Beau stared at Jester, trying very hard not to think a few thought and instead focus on the song. It was hard – Jester looked beautiful, with her dress and candy cane and flowing movements and that stupid adorable smirk on her lips even while singing…

“If you’re not careful”, Caleb whispered next to her. “You will start drooling.”

“Shut the fuck up”, Beau hissed back.

Up in front on the stage, Jester continued her show and finally finished her song:

“ _And if I could have one wish come true  
I wish every day could be, full of peace and harmony  
I wish every day could be like Christmas, I do  
Honest I do, yes I do now_.”

The music stopped. Jester made her candy cane disappear, spread her arms wide and shouted: “MERRY CHRISTMAS, ZADASH!”

The main entrance hall of the theatre was crowded with proud parents and family members and friends of the performers that waited to greet and congratulate the dancers, musicians and actors. As soon as Jester came out, her friends rushed to her side, hugged her and cheered for her. Then came Molly and his kids. As soon as he saw them, little Luc ran over to one of the dancers, the dark-haired human girl that had danced so elegantly in the front.

“Hey! Lumi!”, he called. The girl turned around to him.

“Luc! Hello.”

“I… I made you something.” Luc held out his hand with the gift. The girl took it and carefully unwrapped it.

“Whoa!” She turned the pistol replica in her hands, looking at it and all its tiny painted details. “This looks like _Animus_ , my father’s pepperbox!”

“I, uh, thought you’d like it.” Luc shrugged. “Do you… like it?”

Lumi nodded. “It’s beautiful! Thank you!”

“I mean, it doesn’t work… it’s just pretty”, Luc said. “Just to have sitting somewhere. Not for shooting.”

“That’s okay.” Lumi shrugged. “My father doesn’t let me use any real ones anyways. I’m gonna learn archery next year though, from my mother!”

“That’s so cool!” Luc’s eyes widened. “I’m learning how to use a crossbow from my Mum!”

“Whoa!”, Lumi said again. “That’s awesome!”

For a moment they just stood there, grinning to themselves, looking at the pistol replica.

Then, a tall, white-haired man appeared behind the girl and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “Luminara? Are you ready to leave?”

“Just a moment, Dad.” Luminara held up her gift. “See, look at this!”

Luc watched the man inspect the wooden replica and the intricate silver-and-bronze details. “This is quite beautiful”, he said. “Did you make that?”

He was looking at Luc, who nodded. “Well… my Mum and Dad helped.”

The man nodded and gave it back to his daughter. “Don’t take too long, we still have gifts to open at home.”

“I kno-how!” Luminara rolled her eyes. Her father chuckled and walked over to the rest of their family.

“So, uh… I guess I gotta go.” Luminara shrugged. “Thank you so much for this.”

“You’re welcome.” Luc bit down on his lip. “I, uh… I like you. By the way.”

A smile spread on Luminara’s face, and before Luc could even react, she had leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and had run over to her family.

Nott smiled as her son slowly walked back to them, a bright, wide smile on his face.   
“Successful?”, Nott asked. Luc nodded.

“Your girl is very pretty”, Nott said. Luc nodded again. “She is!”

Nott ran a hand through his hair and looked over to the girl and her family. It was quite the large one. The man in the blue jacket with the white hair seemed to be her father, and her mother had to be the tall, half-elven woman with the long black braid. There was a man next to them who looked uncannily similar to the woman, and there were some more. Another four black-haired children that all shared the same features as Luc’s crush, then a gnome-couple with a girl by their side, a tall red-haired half-elf, a huge grey-skinned goliath…

“What a family”, Yeza commented, sounding fond instead of judging. “Almost as strange as our party here.”

Nott grinned. “Yup. That girl and Luc fit right together.”

“So, shall we go?”, Jester asked. “My place? I have pastries and biscuits and drinks…”

They all agreed in unison.

About half an hour later, they all sat around the Christmas tree in Jester’s apartment, plates on their labs – Caduceus had made his families traditional Christmas-eve-recipe and brought it with him. A big stack of wrapped gifts lay under the tree (since they had already agreed long before to spend the evening together, they had all brought the gifts for each other).

Jester had bought things in Nicodranas for all of them – colourful fabric scarves, jewellery, an intricately formed vial for Yeza, a book for Caleb, sandflower-seeds for Caduceus. Zuala and Yasha had handcrafted candle-holders from glittery FIMO clay for everybody. Caleb had gotten them all Zemnian sweets, Molly had done paintings. Fjord and Caduceus had picked out different succulents for them all. Nott had raided the storage area at the back end of her pawn shop and found nice little trinkets for them all. 

After they had eaten and opened their gifts, they sat together and enjoyed some biscuits and hot cocoa and punch.

“Wait, guys”, Jester said, suddenly. “What time is it?”

“Nine fifty-eight, and about thirty seconds”, Caleb answered. Jester squealed, jumped to her feet and ran over to the radio, turning it on.

“… _that was our last participant in the race to the top in the Critical Radio Christmas Song Charts in this year, Michael Zahn with his cover of_ Thank God it’s Christmas _. It’s almost ten pm now, and that means it is time to reveal our winner_!”

“Oh, oh, oh!”, Jester breathed out excitedly. Her tail was whipping back and forth rapidly.

“ _Just as a reminder, the winner, as every year, was determined by looking at the votes on our very own webpage as well as the streaming numbers on all legal music-streaming-platforms and the purchases of the MP3. And now, before I get to open this nice shiny envelope that none of you can see, I will – one last time – name all our participants this year_.”

The radio moderator made a small pause.

“ _Michael Zahn with_ Thank God it’s Christmas _. Clare Lonerue with_ Underneath the Tree _. Natali Moun with_ White Christmas _. Our Zemnian participant, Emma Gärtner, with_ Pfefferkuchen backen _. Mac Sonite with_ The Most Wonderful Time of the Year _. And finally: Jester Lavorre with_ I wish every day could be like Christmas _!_ ”

They all cheered, and Jester squealed, before shushing everyone.

“ _Alright now… let’s open this thing up… Gentlebeings… the winner of this year’s Critical Radio Christmas Song Chart Contest is… Jester Lavorre!_ ”

Whatever was said afterwards, nobody could hear it – the cheering and shouting in the small living room was way too loud. Everybody hugged Jester, grabbed her by the arms, congratulated her. Jester was close to tears and her smile was so wide that her face seemed to almost crack in half. She couldn’t quite believe it…

And in this moment of cheering and shouting, Beauregard took a leap of faith, crossed the distance and kissed Jester. On the lips. Leaving no room for interpretation, making clear this was not a misaimed cheek-kiss. This was a proper kiss, and not one between friends.

“Oh!” Jester’s cheeks turned a dark blue. “Beau!”

“I’m sorry… I had to.” Beau looked away. “Sorry. Uh, you’re great, Jess. You deserve that win.”

“Beau… do you like me?”, Jester asked.

“That’s… it’s not important right now… you won, that, uh, is great, we should celebrate that…”

Jester grabbed Beau’s face and kissed her. The cheering and applause that ensued was even louder than the one Jester had gotten for winning the number one.

“Well…”, Caleb said when they had calmed down and had returned to sitting under the tree, Beau and Jester now arm in arm, holding hands.

“It, uh, seems like everybody’s doing confessions today.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “I have a question to ask.”

“Of course”, Caduceus said, but Caleb shook his head. “No, uh… not _all of you_. I…”

His ears, face and neck turned bright red, but Caleb got onto his feet and turned around to Mollymauk.

“I, uh… I should have planned this better”, he said quietly. “But… here I am, and I have nothing, so…”

He took a deep breath.

“In moments when I can think clearly, I think that nobody is perfect – not even you – it’s just a construct… and you… I am a mess. I’m not always a happy person. I try to get better, I already _am_ better… largely because of you. Because of this group, and because of you, specifically, Molly. You put up with my bullshit every day, for six years now… I couldn’t be more grateful, and I’m never as happy as I am when you are by my side. I can not think of anyone I’d rather spend my life with. I love you. More than words can say. So… Mollymauk Tealeaf… would you be willing to marry me?”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Jester had grabbed Beau’s arm and Nott’s hand and squeezed them so tight it definitely had to hurt. Fjord stared with wide eyes, so did the others. Only Zuala had a smirk on her face, as if to say About time.

Mollymauk, maybe for the first time in his life, was rendered speechless.

For a moment.

Then, he got to his feet, took Caleb’s hands into his, squeezed them gently, and leaned forward for a kiss.

“I, uh…”, Caleb whispered when they pulled apart. “Is that a _Ja_?”

“Of course it is, you absolute moron!”, Beau hissed.

Mollymauk smiled. “Yes. Ja. It is.”

Caleb took a breath as if he didn’t quite believe it, then wrapped his arms around Molly and hugged him. Tightly.

Once again at this evening, their group of friends broke into applause and cheering.


End file.
